Nobody
by raiseitdonger
Summary: For the first time in years, Romano decides to stay with Spain for awhile. But something about his life as a unified nation has made Romano depressed, and Spain wants to do what he can to help him. Spamano, slight GerIta. ANGST.
1. Reunion

**A/N: So... anyone notice the incredibly vague Cars reference? No? Didn't think so. **

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><p>"This is unusual." Spain said. He sat alone on his couch and was staring idly out the window. Spain was the country where the sun never set; but today, for whatever reason, the sky was gray and rain was pouring to the ground without any signs of stopping. "Hmm… and here I wanted to go harvest the tomatoes." Spain complained to no one. His house was completely deserted. Not that this was unusual; his house had been empty for years. "Oh well. I guess I'll do that later. It's not like anyone will care."<p>

He sank deeper into the couch. _I need to stop talking to myself, _he thought. _People are going to start thinking that I'm crazy. _He looked around the lifeless living room and sighed. _Then again, it's not like there's anyone here to call me crazy. _He decided that since he had nothing better to do, he might as well sleep. He laid down on the couch and rested his head against a cushion before lazily drifting to sleep.

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><p>"<em>Stupid tomato bastard!" Romano cried. "Wake up, dammit!"<em>

"_Mmm… Roma, be quiet… boss is sleepy." Spain said sleepily. The young Romano glared at him and started shaking Spain. _

"_Wake up dammit! I'm hungry! Make me breakfast!" Romano demanded. He started jumping on Spain's stomach with annoying persistence. _

"_Alright, alright!" Spain jolted up, sending Romano flying to the floor with a scream. "Huh? Romano, where did you go…?" _

"_I'm down here, bastard!" Romano began to sob. _

"_Roma! Are you okay?" Spain bolted out of bed and found Romano curled up on the floor sobbing. He was clutching his left arm, which was bleeding. "Oh Roma, baby, I'm so sorry!" Spain hurriedly picked up the smaller nation as gently as he could and cradled him in his arms. "Fusososo… boss Spain will make it better, alright? I'm so sorry." _

"_You suck, Spain!" Spain ignored the statement and carried the crying nation out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen. Spain placed Romano on the counter gently and got some bandages and disinfectant from the cabinet. _

"_This is going to hurt a bit, okay?" Spain said gently. Romano didn't reply, so Spain began to disinfect and wrap the cut. _

"_Oww! Dammit, that hurt!" _

"_I know, I know. It'll feel better in a second, okay?" _

"_Spain, you're crazy!" _

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><p>Spain awoke with a smile on his face. It had been a long time since he had dreamed of the old days with Romano in his house. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. <em>Even if Roma was a pain… I do miss him. It's too quiet here without him. I miss his complaining and whining…<em>

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and tore Spain out of his thoughts. _Who could that be, _he wondered. The only people that ever visited him these days were France and Prussia, and they would usually call ahead of time to decide who would bring the booze. Spain groggily got up from the couch and headed to the door. The rain was nailing down now and was making annoying rattling sounds as the droplets hit the walls of the house. He finally reached the door, and his eyes grew wide at what he saw behind it.

"Roma?" Spain asked. Romano stood alone in the downpour, his entire body soaked. His dark hair looked nearly black in the rain and his clothes clung to his skin tightly. His usual glare was gone and replaced by a solemn look, his eyes as downcast as the weather.

"H-hey, bastard." Romano said, his body shaking.

"Romano! You must be freezing! Here, come inside!" Spain grabbed Romano's hand and pulled him inside without any questions. "I'll get you some blankets from upstairs. Give me a second." Romano silently made his way to the couch as Spain headed upstairs.

_What's Romano doing here? _Spain silently asked himself as he pulled out some blankets from the cabinet. _I've never seen Romano look that sad before… I wonder if he's alright? _As these thoughts raced through his mind, Spain couldn't help but laugh. It had been ages since he had worried over someone like this.

"Roma! I brought some blankets!" Spain said as cheerfully as he could. Romano didn't reply, but grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around himself. Spain sat down beside him. "Sorry about the weather. The one day it rains you come to visit! What luck, right?"

"Yeah…" Romano replied softly.

"So, what brings you here today, Roma? You miss your boss?" Spain asked with a smile. "I haven't seen you in forever, Roma! The last time I saw you was at a world meeting years ago. Why don't you go anymore?"

"Because I don't have to." Romano said with a pout. "Fratello does everything for me."

"Awww, no need to leave this all on Italy! Don't you think he needs some help?"

"Nah. He always has that damn potato-sucker around to help him out."

"You mean Germany? Huh. Didn't realize they were such good friends…"

"They're _more _than that." Romano said with disgust. "They're dating now."

"Oh." Spain sounded a little sad at this. "And I thought he loved his big brother Spain! Ah well, tell him congratulations for me." "Congratulations my ass! That German bastard comes over all the time! I'm sick of it! I hate him and he hates me!"

"Roma… hey, calm down…" Spain reached over to grab his shoulder, but Romano slapped his hand away.

"I hate it there. I hate living in a house where everyone can't stand me!"

"Well, I don't know about Germany… but I know that Italy loves you very much. You're his older brother."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Romano rolled his eyes. "But the main reason I came here was because I'm sick of staying in that house and being a third wheel! And…" Romano blushed ever so slightly. "Since you're the only person in the world who seems to give two shits about me, I decided to come here."

"So you want to stay with boss Spain?" Spain beamed. "You don't even have to ask, Roma! You're always welcome here."

"Thanks, bastard." Romano said, with the slightest bit of a grin.

"You can stay in your old room! Ah, it'll be just like old times! Hey Roma, will you wear a maid uniform again?"

"No!" Romano glared. "Jeez, you've been hanging around that French perv too much."

"I was kidding. No need to take it out on France." Spain held out his hand. "Do you want me to take you upstairs? You look tired."

"I'm not a little kid anymore, dammit." Romano muttered as he got up and walked past him. "I know how to get to my own room."

"Roma, remember what I said about swearing?" Antonio said as sternly as he could, following him up the stairs.

"Yeah, yeah. You couldn't do anything about it then, and you sure as hell can't do anything about it now." Spain didn't bother to argue with this. After all; he was right. The finally arrived to Romano's room. Romnao was shocked to see it was completely unchanged. The desk had old books scattered about it, Romano's old clothes were still hung in the closet and in the drawers and the sheets were just as messy as they were when he had left.

"I left it just the way it was when you left." Spain explained. "Excepted I dusted. You wouldn't want decades of dust on everything, right?"

"…Right." Romano staggered forward and collapsed on the bed.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just really god damn tired." Romano replied, burying his head in the pillow.

"Alright, I'll let you go to bed. Buenos Noches, Roma." Spain turned of the lights and was about to leave when he turned and smiled. "I almost wish your unification didn't happen. I've missed you."

"Yeah." Romano paused. "I wish the unification had never happened too." Spain smiled and closed the door. He wasn't sure what Romano meant by that but, being the optimist that he was, he assumed that is meant Romano had missed him for all these years; and nothing could have made boss Spain happier.

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><p><em>AN: Long time no see! It's been... five days since I last posted? Mein gott, I need a life. Well, here's my Spamano. I hope you all will like it. And if you think it's angsty now... WAIT TIL LATER! I have soooooooooooooooo much angst in store for this story, so be ready! Muhuahahahahahaha! ...Nothing else to say. I need to go to bed now. 2 a.m. Ciao. _


	2. Nightmare

**A/N: And here marks the beginning of lots of angst.**

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><p>"Roma, it's time to wake up." Spain sat on Romano's bedside, shaking him gently.<p>

"Go… away…" Romano muttered, burying himself under the covers.

"Oh, come on, Romano…" Spain sighed. "I'm sick of it taking twenty years for you to wake up."

"Then leave me alone, dammit…" Romano replied.

_This is tiring, _Spain thought, exasperated. It had been two weeks since Romano had come over and as much as Spain enjoyed having the Italian in his house again, he couldn't help but get annoyed with him from time to time. _I miss the days where he'd jump on me to wake up… _

For the most part, nothing had changed since Romano was last here. Romano would still break things by accident and then make Spain clean it up. He still made Spain cook for him whenever he was hungry, and he was still perpetually angry or sad. _Except… he's been more sad than anything recently. I wonder why… _Romano was fast asleep again, so Spain decided to leave him be. _He's so cute, _Spain thought with a small smile. _He's been acting odd though. I know he gets mad easily, but what could have Italy done to upset him so much? I hope Romano's okay… _Spain leaned over and kissed his forehead softly. _He'll probably want breakfast in a few minutes. _Spain got up and closed the door behind him.

Romano looked up at where the Spaniard had just stood, his face bright red.

"What the hell does that bastard think he's doing?" Romano remarked, gently touching his forehead.

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><p>Every night since Romano had come over, it had been sunny and bright in Spain. So everyday, Spain decided to go outside and pick tomatoes. Of course, Romano refused to go with him, claiming that it was too boring. Spain wasn't that surprised. Whenever he took him out to the fields when he was younger, all he would ever do is run away and hang out with Belgium or he would get lost in the miles and miles of tomato plants and cry until Spain found him.<p>

"It's so hot out today…" Spain muttered, wiping off his brow. His basket was full to the brim with tomatoes, so he decided to take a break. He wandered through the tomato plants to a small clearing with a large tree. He sat down beneath its shade and closed his eyes, and slowly fell asleep.

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><p>"Damn, what's taking that bastard so damn long?" Romano grumbled. He sat alone by the window, staring out of it with a scowl. "And it's about to rain too, dammit!" Romano had been waiting there for a little over an hour, searching for the Spaniard among the green, lush plants. <em>Hurry up, dammit…., <em>Romano thought. _I'm getting worried… _Romano smacked himself. "What the hell am I doing? I don't care about him at all!" He stared at the window for a few more seconds before getting up with a loud, exasperated sigh. "That idiot must have gotten himself hurt!" He grabbed an umbrella and ran through the door.

"Spain! Where the hell are you?" Romano shouted as he ran through the plants. "Dammit! I'm hungry! Come here, you stupid bas-" Romano stopped mid-sentence when he slipped on some mud and fell down, ripping his sleeve open on a rock. "God dammit!" Romano hopped up and clutched his arm. He looked up and noticed a clearing up ahead, under a large tree. _Maybe he's over there, _Romano thought, running towards it. Underneath the tree lay Spain, sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of the rain around him.

"That idiot!" Romano ran up and sat beside him. "Oy, Spain! Wake up, dammit!" Romano shook him.

"Mmm… stop it…" Spain replied, still asleep.

"Don't give me that crap! I'm cold and wet and hungry! Wake up!" Romano shook him furiously.

"N-no… stop… leave Roma alone…" Spain mumbled. Romano stopped and stared at him for a moment.

"What the hell? Spain, are you awake?" At this, Spain slowly open his eyes and gazed groggily at Romano.

"Roma…?" Spain asked.

"Yes, it's me! Who the hell else would it be, you lazy-" Spain quieted him by pulling him into a tight hug.

"Romano." Spain said quietly, squeezing him tighter.

"What the hell are you doing?" Romano yelled. "Spain, let go!" Spain's eyes opened wider as he fully woke up, and he immediately let go of Romano.

"Oh… uh, sorry, Romano." Spain said, flustered. "I was half-asleep."

"I noticed. Are you okay?"

"Huh? This is unusual. Were you worried about Boss Spain, Roma?"

"That's not it! And answer the god damn question, will you?"

"Oh… I just had a bad dream, that's all. Nothing for you to worry about."

"You're shaking."

"Oh…" Spain looked up. "Well, I'm cold. How long has it been raining?" He picked up the basket of tomatoes. "Let's go inside."

"Fine…" Romano trailed behind him and remained silent until they got inside.

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><p>"Whew! I'm sick of all this rain!" Spain exclaimed, plopping down on the couch. Romano sat down beside him quietly. "Romano, you okay? You've been rather quiet."<p>

"I'm cold, dammit." Romano pouted.

"Okay. Let Boss Spain help you." Spain got up to go get a blanket, but Romano pulled on his sleeve to make him stay. "What's wrong, Roma?"

"What did you dream about?" Romano asked.

"Why do you want to know?"

"You were talking in your sleep… and you mentioned me."

"Oh… did I?" Spain said timidly. "Well, it's stupid, really. I just had a dream about all those times Turkey and France tried to take you from me. I… I'm sorry. I just hate the thought of losing you to creepy people like them. I want you safe."

"Creepy? Aren't you friends with France?" Romano asked with a smirk.

"Yeah, well… he's still a creep." Spain said, chuckling. He walked back over to Romano and hugged him. "I'm just glad you managed to stay safe."

"Y-yeah." Romano looked away and felt his face flush. "You can let go of me now." Spain smiled and let go. He then noticed that his tan hand was covered with blood.

"Roma! Your arm's bleeding!" Spain cried. Romano's ripped sleeve was soaked with crimson blood.

"Wait, Spain, it's not that big of a deal…" Romano said cooly.

"No, I need to fix it up!" Spain insisted. "Romano, I can't reach it without taking your shirt off. Do you mind?"

"Of course I mind, dammit! Let go of me!" Romano snapped. Spain was too worried to listen to him, so he pulled Romano's shirt off gently, exposing his pale skin.

"Roma…" Spain said in awe. Romano's body was covered in scars. Both his arms and his chest had long, thin lines on them, some old and white and others new and red. He had particularly large gashes on both wrists and around his neck. The scar that was bleeding now was not a new one, but an old one that had re-opened.

"I told you not to!" Romano screamed. He hurriedly grabbed his shirt and ran up the stairs. Spain was too shocked to ask any questions or even chase him. Instead, he fell to his knees as he heard the door to Romano's room slam shut with a loud bang.

"What… what was that?" Spain asked himself. His worst fear in the entire world was to see Romano in pain. Now he had seen it, and he had no idea what to do. _Oh Roma… what in the world happened to you since you left…? _

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><p><em>AN: I know what you're thinking... and no, Italy is not the bad guy in this story. (I love him too much!) So you'll just have to wait to figure out what's happening! Everyone, thanks for all the favorites and reviews! I've only had one chapter out, yet I got a ton of them already! :D Also, I'm sorry if I can't upload as frequently as I'd like... I have to start school, and that means I won't be able to write as often... but I'll be plenty depressed and will come up with lots more angst! Well, I have to go prepare for school now. BAI! _


	3. Curse

**A/N: Short chapter is short. Because the next long chapter will be long, da? (^J^)**

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><p>"Romano! Open the door, please!" Spain cried. He banged his hands against Romano's door desperately, hoping to get a response. The Italian didn't reply. "Roma… who did that to you?" Spain could feel an anger boiling up inside of him, a fury he hadn't felt since his conquistador days. "I swear to God, I'll <em>kill <em>them." Spain said, his voice full of homicidal malice.

_This is exactly why I never wanted him to leave, _Spain thought furiously, _Romano's so weak… I wouldn't be able to stand it if he got hurt. …And he did. _

"God damn it!" Spain shouted, pounding his fist into the ground. It was times like these that Spain detested being a nation. Sure, you could be practically immortal and barely age, but you had to be obedient to the desires of your people and your bosses. Spain had been devastated the day he was forced to kill all of the "pagan" empires he had found during his conquistador days. He had loved them all- be it romantic or like a sibling. But regardless of what he felt, he had to obey what his boss was told. And empire by empire, he took them all down with the same, blood soaked axe. He shuddered to think about it now. And periodically, he would have nightmares depicting the images of them all in their final moments. They all looked the same; their eyes were wide with fear, and they were too petrified with horror to move. Everyone had screamed and begged for their lives, but Spain could do no such thing; he had to exterminate every last one of them mercilessly, so that he may please his boss and the Lord.

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><p>The Aztec Empire was different from the rest of them, however. She had been curious about the ways of Spain, and he had been interested in her too. Over time, he had developed a crush on her, but he never dared to admit it. They were star-crossed, something that would never come to be. Of course, the day came when he was given the order to murder her.<p>

"The Aztec Empire has become weak," his boss had explained to him, all those years ago. "The Aztecs are dying in the streets, just like the vermin they are."

"Boss…" Spain gulped, trying to calm the urge to stab him on the spot. "What exactly is killing them?"

"Small pox." He replied simply. "Something we brought over, apparently. But you should be thankful; it's taking care of most of the job for you."

"Job?"

"We have to take down the Aztec Empire."

"What? Why?" Spain shouted, though he wasn't too surprised to hear this.

"Think about it! Think of all the land we will receive, all of the new crops we can bring back home! Besides, how much longer do you think she'd last anyways?"

"I will _not _kill the Aztec Empire!" Spain said firmly.

"Oh? What's this?" His boss said with an intimidating tone. "Don't tell me you've grown to love that pagan?" Spain glared. "Well, correct me if I'm wrong, Spain." Spain said nothing, his eyes fixated on his boss in a firm stare. "Then I'm right. Spain, don't you realize that loving that girl is a sin? She's a pagan, Spain! She believes in many gods and black magic and disgusting rituals! You will be condemning your soul to hell!" He grabbed Spain fiercely by the shoulder. "Do you want to anger the Lord?"

Spain gulped and looked away. He could never argue when someone brought up God. He couldn't. His faith was too strong; and he had the scars to prove it. When he was a smaller and younger nation, he was beaten to believe in what his bosses told him. It was justified punishment after all, for his skin was the color of a pagan's. Now he knew he couldn't question or argue with faith, because the Lord was always right.

"Fine." Spain said, getting out of his boss's grip. "I'll deal with it." He took his battle axe in hand, and went to see the Aztec Empire.

It didn't matter how hard he tried to forget, he would never be able to suppress the memory of how he killed the Aztec Empire. He relived that moment of slitting her throat with his axe, and the look of calm anger in her eyes that gazed back at him all the time in his dreams. She hadn't spoken a word when he killed her, but he could just tell from the look in her eyes that he would be cursed. He realized that he never wanted to kill again. But, as curses tended to work, he would never get the blood off of his hands. He would be tainted for as long as he was a nation.

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><p>"Roma…" Spain laid back against the wall and sighed. "I'm not going to argue with you. Besides, you always win." Spain chuckled softly but got no response from the Italian inside. "But will you just answer this one question for me? …Romano, do you hate me?"<p>

"…Of course not, bastard…" Romano replied quietly.

"Thank god." Spain smiled sadly. "But I doubt you'll like me for much longer."

"Why the hell's that?"

"Because I'm cursed." Spain said simply. He stared down at his hands solemnly, remembering the blood that once and still covers them. "No matter what I do, I hurt people. I had to slay several nations and wound others, even if they were my friends. That's why I doted upon you so much; I didn't want you to see me as a monster… like the rest of the world."

_Romano obviously knows about all the things I've done in the past, _Spain thought. _It wouldn't be that surprising if he left now… _Spain was too lost in his thoughts to notice the door open behind him. The Italian wrapped his arms around Spain's waist, causing him to jump slightly.

"God dammit, you're such an idiot!" Romano said, laying his head gently on Spain's shoulder. "I can't hate you!"

"Gracias, Roma." Spain said, smiling cheerfully. "That helps me more than you know." Spain pulled the small Italian closer to him and, for once, Romano didn't fight back.

"Look… I'll tell you about what happened if you're that damn worried." Romano said.

"Oh, Roma, you don't have to if-"

"But!" Romano interrupted him. "You have to promise me something."

"Anything, mi tomatitio." Romano glared.

"First of all, _never _call me that again."

"Sorry, Romano, that's not going to happen." Spain smiled.

"Fine. And second: promise me that you won't treat me any different."

"Oh. Of course. You'll always be mi tomatito." Spain cooed, pressing their foreheads together.

"You're gonna die."

"I know, I know." Romano pulled himself out of Spain's arms and sat down in front of him.

"A lot of shit went down since I left…" Romano began, staring at the floor aimlessly. Spain gently grabbed his hand, to comfort him.

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><p><em>AN: FILLER CHAPTER IS FILLER! YAY! :D But anyways... sorry if this chapter sucked major hippogriff. I was kinda rushed to write because... I HAD SCHOOL! D: I HATE SCHOOL! IT'S SO &&(%^$%)*&%#% and &%#$%()*^^$%# with a &^$%*&#$%^# and a &*%^$^&^ covered in barbed wire! ...ahem. All I wanted to say was sorry about this chapter. It was rushed, and hopefully the next one will be better. Besides, the next one will actually bring to attention why this story is called "Nobody" in the first place! There will be angst and plot development galore, so make sure to be patient for it! ...Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go pass out now. ~_


	4. The Italian Unification

**A/N: Romano POV. And angst alert. **

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><p>I trudged down the path to my old house, a place I hadn't seen in years. The bag on my back holding everything I owned was excruciatingly heavy, but I continued to move forward. I couldn't look back; not even if I couldn't see him anymore. <em>It's about time I left, anyways, <em>I figured. _I can't keep living with him like I'm a little kid. _

The day had finally come where I had decided to leave Spain. Even though I didn't really feel like leaving, I knew it would be better for my country. When you're a nation, your people come first. _And it's not like that Spanish bastard gave a shit about me a shit about me. He was always too busy killing people to care. _I sighed. _And just like the rest of the world, he likes Fratello better. _

I reached the door and gulped. It had been centuries since I had last seen Veneziano. For all I knew, he could have completely changed. _What if… what if that stupid brother of mine doesn't let me in? _I shook my head.

"That's stupid! He's the one who invited me." I said, rolling my eyes. I pounded on the door three times.

"Ve~ I'll be there in a second!" Veneziano called from inside. I could hear soft footsteps running towards where I stood. Veneziano opened the door and immediately hugged me, squeezing as hard as he could with his small arms.

"H-hey! Let go of me, idiot!" I said, attempting to push him away. But his grip was firm, so I decided to just wait it out with a glare. _He hasn't changed at all. _

"Ve! Welcome home, Romano! I missed you!" Veneziano said after he had finally let go of me.

"Yeah, hi, fratello." I said. "I'm really god damn hungry! I've been walking all day! Give me something to eat, dammit!"

"You haven't changed at all." Veneziano said, that same stupid grin plastered across his face.

"Gee thanks." I pushed him aside and made my way into the house. It, for the most part, had stayed the same; the air even smelled like pasta.

"I made pasta for you!" Veneziano cooed, shutting the door behind me. "But you can go unpack your things first if you want."

"Whatever." I replied. But before I could go, he tackled me with another one of his tight hugs. "Do you want something, dammit?"

"I just…" Veneziano looked serious for once. "I really, really missed you, fratello."

"Yeah…" I wasn't very good with confrontations like this. "I think the pot's boiling over."

"Ve! Is it?" Veneziano let go immediately and ran to the kitchen. I lied, of course, but it was only because I was way too proud to admit that I had missed him too.

After putting away my stuff in my old bedroom, I met Veneziano downstairs for dinner. It was just a simple dinner of chicken carbonara, but it had been years since I had anything other than Spanish food, so I enjoyed it.

"So… what finally made you decide to come home?" Veneziano asked.

"It's not like I chose, idiot." I replied. "I did what would be best for the people, just like you."

"Yeah… that's true." Veneziano paused for a moment. "Is… is big brother Spain okay?"

"Huh? Why the hell wouldn't he be?"

"Well… it's just that… ve… I've heard that he can get really scary when he's mad. Was he upset when you left?"

"What? Of course not, idiot! That Spanish bastard never really gave a damn about me. I was nothing but a trouble from the start, and he even told me that! He's wanted you instead of me."

"Oh, really?" Fratello smiled sheepishly. "I didn't think I'd be that popular…"

"Well, what about that aristocrat dude? Uh… what the hell was his name again?"

"Mr. Austria." Veneziano replied. "Ve… he's angry most of the time, so there's not much I could've done to upset him. But… I feel bad for Mr. Austira. Everyone's left him; he must be lonely. Oh! I know! Maybe we can make him a cake someday! And you could make something for big brother Spain, too!"

"Yeah, maybe." I yawned. "I'm gonna go to bed early. I've been up all freaking day traveling."

"Okay. Good night, fratello! Sweet dreams, ve!" Without another word, I got up from the table and went to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me quietly.

"That naïve idiot…" I muttered. I knew that even if I tried to give something to Spain as an apology, he probably wouldn't forgive me. That morning when I had left, Spain had screamed and begged for me to come back, but I didn't listen to him. "He probably hates me now." I flopped on the bed, too lazy to change out of my clothes. "Heh. He better get in line; the rest of this god damn world hates me too."

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><p>If I had any dreams that night, I definitely don't remember anything. I woke up sometime in the middle of the night- around two in the morning, according to fratello. I felt an immense pain in my chest; it felt like my heart had been lit on fire and was disintegrating. Usually when I was in pain, I didn't tell anyone. I hated having anyone pity me, especially that Spanish bastard. But this time, I couldn't help it. I shrieked until I felt that my lungs were going to give out. I obviously woke Veneziano up, because he came running to my room in an instant, with speed he only used when he was in retreat.<p>

"Ve! Fratello! What is it?" Veneziano rushed to my side, his eyes tearful from worry. "What's wrong? Romano, talk to me!" I didn't reply. It hurt so much that I couldn't even scream anymore. The last thing I remember of that night was coughing up blood all over the white sheets, then blacking out as my frightened brother watched.

The next morning I awoke in an unfamiliar room. It was a hospital, I realized; no other place would be so god damn white.

"Ve…" Veneziano said quietly. His usual dopey grin was replaced by a sad smile. "Good morning, fratello. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." I replied. Sitting up warily. "What the hell happened?"

"I was going to ask you that. Did something happen to you last night?"

"No shit, genius. I just don't know what the hell it was." I sighed. "How the hell did I get here?"

"Ve! I panicked so much that… I was able to carry you here!" Veneziano grinned at me triumphantly.

"How the hell did you manage that?"

"I don't know. But it was super cool!"

"You seem to be in a pretty damn good mood."

"Yeah, I am. But the doctor checked you out and said that there seemed to be nothing wrong with you."

"Heh. Figures." I muttered. "I'm a nation, not a human. Of course he wouldn't know what the hell was going on. C'mon, I want to go home."

"Alright." He held his hand out towards me. "You need help?" I glared.

"I can get up on my own, dammit!" I got to my feet shakily. I felt incredibly weak; like the slightest touch would knock me down to my feet. _What the hell is happening, _I asked myself silently. Veneziano could tell that something was the matter, and he grabbed my hand.

"Ve, I'll help you out." He said calmly.

"Dammit, I don't need your god damn help!" I tried to slap his hand away, but instead stumbled forward.

"I'm gonna help you until we get home, okay?" I decided not to argue. I felt too shitty to fight back, especially since I knew that he was right. I looked up at him. _Wait, looked up? _

"Veneziano… did you grow taller?" I asked. I noticed his shirt sleeves didn't even get up to his wrists, and his pants looked more almost like shorts.

"Hmm… now that you mention it… yeah!" He beamed. "Maybe I'll even grow to be taller than big brother France or Mr. Austria!" I glared at him, but he either ignored it or didn't see. _Why the hell is he so damn happy_, I wondered. Everything about him looked happier than me- his cheeks were rosier, his skin seemed to be glowing and even his hair shined in the sunlight.

_God dammit, _I though as I leaned against Veneziano. _Just what the hell is going on? _

The next day was another tedious world meeting. As usual, nothing got done. I hated going to those things, but fratello dragged me along, claiming that since we were now one combined nation, we should both make decisions as one. After the meeting ended, Veneziano wandered off to go talk to some of the other nations he knew. Since I was little, my whole life has consisted of Spain, and I barely knew anyone else. I wandered around aimlessly until I stumbled into France.

"Zut! Watch where you are going next time!" He shouted. " You almost messed up my perfect hair!"

"Oh shut it, bastard." I muttered. But then I realized that he was friends with Spain. I was worried about talking with Spain again so soon, but I was so damn bored that I didn't care. "Hey, Frenchie! Do you know where the hell Spain is?"

"Who are you calling Frenchie?" He replied. "Spain said he was too sick to come. But why do you need to see him?"

"Because, he's friends with me… I think."

"Who…" France stared at me suspiciously. "Who are you, anyway?"

"What the hell? Don't you remember me? I'm South Italy! Romano! Didn't you try to kidnap and molest me?"

"Oh… well you could say that about a lot of people." France said with a smirk. The urge to punch him in the face was rising. "But what do you mean by South Italy? There's only one Italy; he's over there." He pointed to fratello who was chatting happily with Hungary.

"What? No! There's two of us! There's always been two of us!"

"Whatever you say, ma cherie." He blew me a kiss. "But I must go. I want to bother England." He pranced away.

"What a freak." I muttered. "But what the hell was he talking about?" I felt a bit uncertain, so I wandered over to the corner, where Belgium was sitting quietly by herself. I still had a crush on her, and I could feel my cheeks turn red. "Uh…" I began nervously as I approached. "H-hello."

"Hello." She said simply, smiling softly. She stared back at me with unfamiliar eyes. "Are you lost, honey?"

"What? No! I'm not lost! I'm not an idiot!" I yelled.

"Okay, okay, calm down." She said, patting my head softly. "What's your name?"

"My name? Dammit! I thought you knew who the hell I was! I'm Romano! South Italy, dammit!"

"South Italy…" She trailed off. "I'm sorry, but that doesn't sound familiar…"

"You don't remember me? I lived with Spain for centuries! I had a huge crush on you, and I asked if you would kiss me! We used to pick tomatoes together with Spain! How the hell do you not remember me?" She stared at me blankly for a moment, before letting out a sympathetic sigh.

"I'm sorry." She said. "I just don't know you. I remember picking tomatoes with Spain… but I don't recall there being a South Italy. Really, I'm sorry."

"This kid bothering you?" The Netherlands had walked up beside her, and stared at me blankly.

"No, no. He's just a little lost, that's all." The Netherlands had creeped me out as a kid, and still did now, so I decided to walk away and leave them alone. Not that he'd remember me either.

I spent the rest of the day talking to the other nations, but none of them knew who the hell I was. Being the idiot that I was, it took me forever to figure out what the hell was going on… but that's when I realized what it was: The Italian Unification. Veneziano had been chosen to take all responsibility for the nation. Now that we were unified, there was no need for two personas. That was the pain I had experienced- it was the pain of having your heart and soul ripped out of you without your consent. And that explained why Veneziano had grown taller and seemed healthier; he had obtained all of my strength as a nation.

I was in too much shock to figure out was going on. That night, I decided to skip dinner and headed straight to my room, and preceded to lock myself in. I cried.

"It's not fucking fair!" I shouted, throwing my pillow against the wall. "Why does fratello always get everything?" For as long as I could remember, Veneziano had always gotten preferential treatment. Grandpa Rome took care of him and loved him and neglected me. Then, when Austria had taken over Italy, he threw me to Spain, because he didn't care about me. And, even when I lived with Spain, the only person who would probably ever care about me, he complained day after day that he wished he had gotten Veneziano instead of me. And now… now even God preferred him too.

"God dammit…" I wiped the tears from my eyes. "How long will it be until Veneziano forgets about me too?" I stared at my desk. On it sat a bucket of tomatoes and a knife to cut them if I didn't feel like eating them whole. It was one of the few things I had left from Spain's house. "Spain…" I muttered. The tears began to flow down my face again. "He's forgotten me too…" I got up slowly and walked to my desk. I gripped the knife and stared that the shiny, silver blade. "The entire world has forgotten me. …Even god has forgotten me."

Without any hesitation, I slid the knife against my wrist as hard as I could, and watched the crimson of my blood pour out at a quick pace. I smiled. Soon enough, fratello won't have to worry about me anymore. I sat down against the wall and stared as my blood spilled off my wrist onto the floor, staining everything it touched. I closed my eyes and waited for death to take me away.

But it didn't.

I had to find out the hard way that I couldn't die. I wasn't a nation anymore, but I wasn't human either. After many attempts, I found myself hopelessly crying out to a god that had forsaken me.

"What the hell am I?"

And now I know what I am. I'm nobody.

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><p><em>AN: Too angsty? Yeah, that's what I thought. Other than thanking people for the faves and reviews, I only have one thing to say: Don't you dare troll. If you do, I will report and block you immeadiatly. Though people may not believe it, self-mutilation and suicide are huge problems. Problems that recently, I've had to help a friend get through. So don't you dare say anything about cutters being attention whores or whiny brats. Sorry for suddenly being a downer, but this is one thing that can really upset me, so I'd appreciate it. Thanks for understanding. _


	5. Te Amo

**A/N: I'm very mean to France in this chapter. Which is ironic, really. France is my favorite character! :D**

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><p>Spain stared at Romano for a moment, far too stunned to say a thing. His usually tan skin had grown pale as the frail Italian in front of him stared back with an eerily emotionless gaze.<p>

"Roma…?" Spain began, his voice dry and nervous. "Roma, you can't be serious." Romano didn't reply, but just stared back with those dead, glazed-over eyes. "Romano…" Spain grabbed Romano and pulled him into a tight hug. "Romano, I'm so sorry…"

"You don't need to be." Romano replied coldly.

"Yes, yes I do!" Spain said, squeezing him tighter. "I… I shouldn't have let you go…"

"I chose to. It was better for the people." Romano said. "You're a nation, you know how that works."

"I know, but… Romano… please believe me when I say that I never forgot you."

"It's only a matter of time, idiot."

"Romano, I haven't seen you in years. If I haven't forgotten about you since then, I doubt I'll ever forget about you."

"I guess." Spain glared in frustration and gently patted Romano's hair.

"I'm Boss Spain, si? And even if I'm technically not in charge of you anymore," Spain hugged him again. "That doesn't mean I don't care about you, Romano."

"You'd be the only one." Romano said, pushing him away. "And why the hell do you keep going on and on about that "boss" crap. You know damn well that you didn't want me! You never did! You tried to trade me for that stupid, perfect brother of mine!"

"Wait, Roma, that's not-"

"It's true and you know it, bastard! You just had to tolerate living with me then, and you have to do it again now, because my brother is dating that potato-bastard! You never wanted or given a damn about me from the start!"

The room went silent as Romano panted from yelling so much and Spain just stared, unsure of what to say to the Italian. It seemed that so much had happened in such little time. But all that mattered to Spain at the moment was cheering Romano up.

"Romano…" Spain began nervously. "You're right. I did try to trade you for your brother. But that was a long time ago. And I was mostly kidding. But believe me, I really do care about you Romano. I _like _your brother, but I _love _you."

"…What?" Romano said, his face turning red.

"You heard what I said." Spain grabbed his hand firmly. "I love you, not your brother. I love you, and nothing in the world will ever make me forget you."

"H-hey… that doesn't make sense, dammit! I'm not a country anymore, and I'm not even a person! I'm nobody, I'm nothing! How the hell could you care about me?"

"To me, you're not a nobody. You're mi tomatito, and I don't want that to change." Spain leaned forward and kissed his forehead. Romano blushed and stared at the ground in embarrassment. "Are you feeling any better?" He nodded, his eyes fixated at his feet. Spain smiled softly. "Good. I was worried."

At that moment, the doorbell rang, and made the both of them jump.

"Who the hell could that be?" Romano asked, frustrated.

"I don't know, let me go check." Spain walked over to the door and opened it, only for a drunken France and Prussia to collapse on the floor in front of him. "Uh… hola."

"What the hell are you idiots doing here?" Romano snapped.

"Awww, when did you become so mean, Italy?" France asked.

"He's _not _Italy!" Spain snapped before Romano could say anything.

"Pour quoi etes-vous tous si cela signifie?" France muttered.

"Speak something that I know, France." Spain said, rolling his eyes. "Also, why are you two here?"

"Well…" Prussia began. He seemed a little less drunk than France. "West was at Italy's house for the night so I invited France over to get drunk. I invited you too, but you un-awesomely decided to not check your phone."

"I was busy." Spain replied simply.

"Busy screwing your Italian?" France giggled. Spain kicked him in the stomach.

"Go on." Spain said, annoyed. France was too drunk to get hurt and was rolling around on the floor like an idiot.

"Well, we got drunk and bored so we decided to come here and bring you some booze. Except… we kinda drank it all."

"That figures." Spain sighed. "But is there something you need? I was really busy."

"Busy being delicious?" France cooed.

"Well, can he stay here for the night? If he goes out again, he'll probably find away to get himself killed."

"Alright, alright. I'll put him in the guest room." Spain grabbed France and carried him over his shoulder. "Romano, could you keep Prussia company? I'll only be a minute."

"Hell no!" Romano snapped back.

"Please? It's not like he's going to molest you. That's what he has Austria and Hungary for."

"I didn't need to hear that, dammit!" Romano complained. But he stayed there anyway as Spain trudged down the hallway with France who was now quietly singing off-key.

"You don't look too awesome." Prussia said awkwardly.

"Gee thanks. Sorry I can't be as damn awesome as you think you are." Romano pouted.

"No, I'm serious. You don't look too good, Romano."

Romano stared at him for a long moment in disbelief. _What the hell, _he thought. _Have I ever even talked to this guy before? How the hell does he know my name? Why the hell does he remember me when almost no one else does? _

"How the hell do you know my name?" Romano demanded, glaring fiercely at Prussia.

"Why wouldn't I know your name? Spain talks about you all the time." Prussia replied simply.

"If that's the case, then how come that French creeper doesn't remember me?"

"Maybe because he's stupid?"

"He can't be _that _stupid." Romano pouted. "It's the same with the others, too. It doesn't matter how many times I tell them I'm Romano, they never remember…"

"Oh… I get it. I know what this is all about." Prussia smirked. "Huh, I didn't think it worked the same with you guys."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Ever heard of the German Reunification?" Prussia said, his tone more serious than expected. "It was after I had been… dissolved." Prussia looked down sadly, his eyes darkened for a moment. "It was awhile after World War Two. I was forced to live with that Big-nosed Russian asshole… but that's not that point. After I was dissolved, and after I was reunited with West, it seemed the whole world had forgotten me, except for my bruder, of course."

"That's the same as me!" Romano shouted.

"I noticed. I didn't think reunifications worked this way for every sibling nation. I was worried I'd be the only one treated this un-awesomely."

"But how the hell did you get people to remember you? It's been years since the Italian unification, and the others still don't remember me, dammit!"

"Hmmm… I don't know. Originally, when I came back, virtually no one cared about me. But I didn't run away. I was loud and obnoxious and awesome and got everyone's attention. You can't forget someone as awesome as me, now can you?"

"Well sorry, but I'm not as cool as you, apparently." Romano groaned.

"Yeah, but all you have to do is be loud and annoying and cause attention, and you'll get people to remember you."

"I don't like being around too many people…"

"Well if that's the case, then fine, you don't have to be. But you know, Romano, you're different than me." Prussia leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Everyone forgot about me, but Spain didn't stop talking about you since the moment you left."

"Oy! What are you doing to mi tomatito?" Spain shouted.

"Nothing, nothing." Prussia said, backing away from Romano. "I'm too awesome for this kid, anyway." Spain walked forward and hugged Romano from behind.

"It's getting late out…" Spain said. "Prussia, did you want to stay here too?"

"Nah, I'll just go home."

"But I don't want you to die from being too drunk."

"I'd rather die from getting hit by a car than sleeping in the same building as a drunken France."

"…That's true. Well then, goodnight, Prussia. Be careful."

"I'm too awesome to mess up!" Prussia said, opening the door. "And Romano, remember what I talked about okay?" He smiled and shut the door behind him.

"Did Prussia say something weird to you?" Spain asked. Romano stared up at him, a bright blush spreading across his face.

"No, he didn't." He finally replied.

"Well, that's good." Spain smiled and lifted Romano up. "It's been a long day, hmm? Why don't you go to bed?"

"Put me down, dammit!" Romano protested, kicking his legs wildly. Spain ignored him and carried him to his bedroom. He gently placed the squirming Italian on the bed and smiled.

"Think about what I said earlier, okay?" Spain quickly kissed Romano on the lips and smiled. "Te amo, Romano." Without another word, Spain left the room and quietly shut the door behind. Romano sat in bed and stared at the ceiling, his heart racing too fast for him to get any sleep.

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><p><em>AN: Sorry for being a week late behind schedule! I meant to upload this sooner, but I got distracted. That's right... *drumroll plz* LAST WEEK WAS THE ANIME CON! It was so much freaking fun, and I got to meet the Voice Actor for Italy! He was cute. Also, I cosplayed as Chibi Romano and my girlfriend was Spain! I have tons of stories to tell from the con, but if I wrote them down, it would make this story rated M. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter with Prussia, France, and all of their plot-devicey goodness. Thanks for the faves and reveiws and... I'm tired. Buenos Noches. *passes out*_


	6. The Setting Sun

**A/N: Enter the plot device. YAY! ENGLAND! By the way, I do like England. I just couldn't think of anyone else that Spain hated. **

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><p>"<em>Te amo, Romano." <em>

The words repeated in his head like a never ending drum. _That idiotic bastard… _Romano thought, his face as red as a tomato, _there's no way he loves me like that. He probably loves me like his kid or something… _He shook his head. _That can't be true. He wouldn't have kissed me like that. _Romano curled up under the sheets. _That doesn't make any god damn sense. How can anyone love me? _Romano could feel the warmth of tears trickling down his face. _I'm nobody. _

_But that kiss… _even now he could feel the warmth of Antonio's lips against his and the feeling of security and happiness when Antonio hugged him. _That bastard's always been different, hasn't he? _Romano wiped his eyes and, for the first time in ages, truly smiled. _Maybe I'm somebody to that idiot. _He suddenly began to feel sleepy, he curled up under the sheets. His heart was beating fast and his face felt warm. _Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll tell him. _

_I love him. _

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><p>Spain awoke at late at night to the sound of someone persistent ringing the doorbell. He sat up groggily and stared at the clock. <em>It's two thirty… <em>he thought, rubbing his eyes. _Who the hell could it be? _He got up and wandered down the hall. He stopped by Romano's room and, out of habit, opened the door. Romano was fast asleep, and Spain couldn't help but smile. _He sleeps like a little kid, _he thought. Romano was sprawled out all over the bed, one of his legs on top of the covers and his mouth was wide open. Spain quickly and quietly made his way into the room and kissed Romano gently on the forehead so he wouldn't wake him up.

"Te amo." He whispered. He strolled away quietly, smiling. _I wonder if he'll ever love me back, _Spain wondered as he wandered downstairs. _Even if he doesn't, as long as he's happy it'll be alright. I hope he knows… I won't forget him, ever. _

Spain was torn from his sweet thoughts as he got closer to the door, where the annoying screaming from outside got louder and louder.

"Open this bloody door, you damn wanker!" It was England. And as much as Spain hated him, it must have been important if he was going to come here at this hour.

"What the hell could you possibly want at this hour?" Spain asked after he opened the door. It was the closest thing England was going to get to a 'hello'. Spain and England had a grudge against each other since the pirate days, and it wasn't going to be over soon.

"You know damn well what this is about!" England stumbled forward and fell on his face.

"No, I really don't." Spain said, staring at the pathetic Englishman. "Are you drunk?"

"I'm not drunk! I'm the bloody Untied Kingdom! I can't get drunk!" He said, standing up.

"Uh-huh. Sure." Spain said, rolling his eyes. "Ay… why do drunk people keep showing up to my house?"

"What's that mean?"

"Nothing, just that France came over here, drunk out of his mind."

"France? I hate the bloody frog!"

"The whole world knows that, England."

"Then why the hell do you like him?"

"Because we have an equal hatred for you." Spain remarked. "Now please tell me what you want? I'm exhausted." England stared off into space for a second, then finally replied.

"I don't remember."

"You're an idiot." Spain rolled his eyes. "You're almost as stupid as America."

"Don't call him stupid!" England cried, glaring at him.

"I'm just saying the truth." Spain said. "He _is _pretty stupid."

"Like you have the right to talk! I have to keep bailing your arse out so you don't ruin Europe's economy! Do you know how hard that is?"

"Yeah, well that's not my fault!" Spain was starting to get irritated by this point. "And that dumbass America certainly isn't helping!"

"Stop calling him that, wanker!" England pulled from his pocket a small revolver and pointed it towards Spain's face.

"What the hell is that for?" Spain said, completely unafraid.

"America gave it to me. I keep it just in case…"

"In case of what? In case of someone stealing your colonies? Oh wait, that's right. You don't have anymore."

"SHUT UP!" In a furious movement, England raised his gun up and shot Spain in the arm. Spain dropped to his knees and clutched his arm. Sure, he had been through worse pain than this. But it had been such a long time that he couldn't help but cringe.

"Gah… wow, have you really sunk this low?" Spain couldn't feel the pain anymore; instead, the blood trickling down his arm made him even more furious. He could feel an anger welling up inside of him that he hadn't felt for ages.

"It's your own damn fault." England said, backing away slowly.

"Oh? What's this? You seem frightened, mi amigo." Spain said, slowly standing up and looming over England.

"G-get away from me, wanker!" England's green eyes grew wide with fear as he stumbled backward. Spain couldn't fight it anymore. The hatred against England was overwhelming him, and he could feel murderous rage getting the best of him. England had caused him more problems then he could remember, and he had nothing but hatred for him.

"I wonder, England…" Spain said darkly, his eyes a glowing green. "How much your beloved America would miss you if you were gone?"

"Look! I'm sorry! Okay, I'm sorry! I'm drunk and I'm not feeling like myself!"

"You should have thought about that before you shot me." Spain glared. Injuries inflicted upon nations by other nations would last for awhile, even if they weren't from a war. He smirked and decided to give England a taste of his own medicine. He leaned forward and grabbed a hold of England's neck and squeezed tightly. At the moment, he didn't care what the consequences would be if he actually killed England; all he knew was that he wanted him dead.

England struggled beneath him, kicking his legs and attempting to pull Spain's hands off of his throat, but to no avail. Spain watched in sadistic joy as England's eyes began to dim and his face turned a deathly pale.

England finally managed to grab the gun that had fallen to his side and without any hesitation, he aimed it forward and shot. The moment he felt Spain's hands loosen around his neck, he pushed Spain off of him and ran away as fast as he could without looking back. The last thing he wanted was to get killed by Spain. And besides, this was a one-night thing. It wasn't like there was a war going on between the two countries currently, so the best thing to do was to leave it behind.

When Romano woke up the next morning, he could barely tell it was daytime. The sky outside was dark and gloomy, the clouds covering the never-setting sun of the land of Spain. But Romano didn't care about how the weather was. All that mattered was telling Spain how he felt. Romano stretched and made sure to put on nice clothes. Not that he cared how that bastard felt about how he looked. Just as he was about to go downstairs to eat, he heard a knock on the door.

"Spain?" Romano said. "Come in." The door creaked open, revealing the pale, shaken France.

"B-bonjour." France muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, it's you." Romano said, glaring at him. "What the hell's your problem? You look like shit."

"That's not important right now." France said, his tone serious. "I… need to show you something."

"What the hell is it? It's not your penis is it, you creep?"

"I'm being serious here!" France cried. He grabbed Romano's wrist and pulled him out of the room. France ignored Romano's complaints as he took him down the hall and to the front entrance. There, lying in the open doorway was Spain, his emerald eyes dull and empty. His forehead was pierced with a single bullet wound, and there was a small puddle of crimson blood around his head. He lay, unmoving, and Romano could do nothing but stare.

"W-what the hell is this?" Romano said finally. He stared at France for answers but got nothing but a solemn stare back. "This can't be happening, right? Hey! Spain can't be dead! This can't be happening, dammit!" Romano ran forward and hugged Spain's body to him. It was cold. "God damn it…" Romano was crying now, and didn't care that France was watching. "What the hell did this, dammit?"

"I'm sorry…" France said quietly. "I only found him like this when I woke up this morning…" Romano ignored him and continued crying. The one person in this world that would ever love and remember him was gone… possibly forever.

"This doesn't make any damn sense…"

That day, the sun was set in Spain, and it was uncertain that it would rise again.

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><p><em>AN: Trolololololololololololol. Well... any death threats yet? Anyone want to shoot me in the face yet? Yeah, I know how you feel, but I had this planned since the beginning. I know it seems random and unnecessary, but I promise that Spain dying is going to lead to a happy ending and will bring to light a completely different perspective on how the nations and personas of Hetalia work. But for now... just bare with me. It WILL have a happy ending. Also, sorry for such a late chapter. I've been busy recently. There was homecoming, and I got a cold and stayed in bed for about 14 hours... guh. Anyways, I'm tired. Thanks for reviews and faves and ect... *falls asleep*_


	7. The World of Personas

**A/N: It took me 2 weeks to upload something, and it turns out to be short. Aren't I wondrous? **

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><p>Romano heard that the funeral was held in some beautiful, open valley full of trees not too far from Madrid. But he didn't go because no one had remembered to invite him, and he had no reason to go. Spain, or at least Antonio, was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it. Though the persona had died, the nation itself continued to remain the same. Everyone knew that it was England that had caused this accident, but everyone knew it was wise to just leave it be; after all, it would be illogical to start a war based on something that happened between two personas.<p>

From what he had heard, the funeral was depressing as hell. Prussia and France had shown up and drank until they were happy. Italy showed up and sobbed until he fell asleep in Germany's arms. Even Austria managed to show up, and quietly left some flowers. Other bouquets were there, and they were rumored to be from Spain's former colonies, but no one knew for sure.

Romano spent the entire day in bed. Sometimes he slept, sometimes he cried, but for the most part he just stared aimlessly off into space. Now that Spain, the only person that could and did love him, was gone, he was completely alone in this large, empty house.

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" Romano asked himself. He didn't serve any purpose here. But then again, he didn't serve any purpose anywhere. Once again, the recurring reminder that he was a nobody was on his mind. He was a nobody. Nobody remembered him. Nobody liked him. Nobody loved him. And nobody wanted him. "God dammit…" Romano muttered, fighting back the urge to cry. He pulled the covers above his head and closed his eyes. _What do I do… _he wondered. Suddenly, he felt the sheets get ripped off of him, and above stood the eerily perky France.

"Bonjour!" France cheered, smiling at Romano.

"What the hell do you want?" Romano screamed, backing away from him. "How did you get in here, you creep?"

"You left the door open, mon ami." France responded simply.

"That doesn't mean you just walk in, idiot! And don't call me that!"

"Oh? Would you rather be called 'ma amie' like the feminine form?"

"Just shut up, France." Romano crawled back under the sheets.

"Oh, why so down, Italy?" Romano threw the covers off and glared.

"I'm _not _Italy, dammit! I'm Romano!" Romano shouted. "…Not that you give a damn. Not like anyone gives a damn anymore."

"Oh, shush." France sat down on the bed a few feet away from Romano so he wouldn't freak him out. "I came here to talk to you, Romano."

"Like hell you did. You can't even remember my damn name."

"I did that on purpose so you'd get mad and yell at me. At least that meant I got your attention."

"How the hell do you remember me _now_?"

"Spain talks about you so much, it's hard to forget now."

"What do you want?" Romano grumbled. Whatever France had to say, it definitely wasn't important. Nothing mattered to Romano except Spain, and he was gone.

"When a nation is formally dissolved, their persona dies. You know this, oui?"

"Duh. Every nation knows it."

"The only exceptions to this are nations that unify like you and your brother and Prussia and Germany."

"I know that. I'm not an idiot, bastard."

"I didn't say you were an idiot, Romano. Just listen. Do you remember the Holy Roman Empire?"

"Uh… sort of…" Romano mumbled.

"It makes sense if you don't; you were under Spain's care at the time. Anyways, Holy Rome and Italy were really good friends when Italy was still under Austria's control. You could call them les amoreux."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Uh…" France hesitated. "Let's just say they were kind of… in love."

"Wow." Romano paused. "I guess fratello's always been fruity."

"That's for sure. But, in his defense, Holy Rome thought he was a girl. But that's not what's important." France stopped for a moment and clenched his fists. "I… killed him."

"Wait… what?" Romano laughed nervously. "I thought you were a pussy." France didn't laugh, but stared at his hands as if in a daze.

"I had to kill him." France said. "Nations have to obey their masters, no matter the consequence."

"So what? Why the hell should I care? I'm not my brother."

"You don't have to care about what happened to Holy Rome. Just listen. I shot Holy Rome in the head, and there was no possible way I could miss. And after that, Prussia hated me. Which is understandable. I don't know what I would do if one of my best friends killed Seychelles or mon cheri Canada."

"Who the hell's that?"

"Forget it. But after killing Holy Rome, Prussia said he would do whatever he could to get me back. But… he decided not to after something strange: A little boy was wandering around not too far from where I had killed Holy Rome." Romano didn't say anything, so France continued. "Prussia thought that I had spared him, but that's not the case. I killed him. I know I did. But Prussia still believes that boy wandering around was Holy Rome, even though it wasn't. That boy's hair and eyes were bright shades than Holy Rome's. And today, you now know that boy as "Germany"."

"So… what the hell are you saying?"

"Just because the nation died, that doesn't mean the land died, too. The land needed the persona, so that's why Prussia found that boy wandering around."

"Why the hell are you telling me this? It doesn't apply for Spain! He wasn't dissolved!"

"Exactly. So it makes it even weirder that Spain managed to 'die', right?" Again, Romano didn't reply. "It's funny. This thing has happened before."

"It has? To who?" France pulled a small picture out of his pocket and showed it to Romano. It had France, Canada, England, America, Russia and China smiling and pretending they were getting along.

"It's the allies."

"I know that, idiot!"

"I know. But look, do you recognize the guy one the end? The one next to Russia?"

"That's a _guy_?" Romano said, shocked. "He looks like a chick!" France laughed.

"Yes, that's a guy. That's China. And he's technically the oldest nation yet… he looks really young, don't you think? He looks younger than England and Russia and even America. Isn't that strange?"

"…I guess so."

"He's probably like this because… he's died before. During the Mongolian occupation of China, the persona of China _died. _In fact, the older persona had black hair and looked much older. But because he died, he got a new persona and now looks like this. You see, if a persona is killed but the nation is not dissolved, a new persona will be born in their place, and they will know the entire nation's history and their language." France gently placed his hand on Romano's shoulder. "Romano, Spain is out there somewhere. You need to find him."

Romano didn't say anything, because too many things were running though his head. Just when he thought that the last person that had ever cared about him was gone, he was wrong. Romano realized that it wasn't just Spain that had cared for him. He had his sweet fratello, who would do whatever he could to help him. Then he had Prussia, who could sympathize with him more than anyone else. And, there was even France, who wasn't nearly as much of a creep as Romano originally thought.

"Shit…" Romano said in a hoarse whisper. He was crying again. "Why the hell am I crying again?"

"I have no idea." France stood up and stretched. "Well, I should go. I have people waiting for me."

"You have _friends_?"

"Oh, arreter le parler, sil vous plait." France replied. Romano glared. "You know, it's becoming harder to forget about you. You're so different from your brother." He started to walk away without another word.

"Hey! Wait, you French bastard!" Romano jumped up and followed France.

"Hmm? What is it, Romano?" Romano hesitated for a moment and looked away.

"T-thanks, France." He finally said. France had never expected him to thank him, let alone call him by his actual name. "Thank you. And… I owe you one." France grinned.

"We could always make up for it in my bed room, oh hon hon~" France said.

"God, I hate you." Romano replied with a smirk.

"Au revoir, Romano. And let me know what happens." France left, leaving Romano all alone. He stood up and ran out the door, not caring that he left it unlocked.

_Wait for me, Spain, _Romano thought. _I will find you. I promise. _

* * *

><p><em>AN: Short chapter is short. Are you all mad? If you're wondering what took so long, I shall tell you: Romano is pissed at me for killing off Spain, so he decided to curse me with writer's block. So yeah. For the record, I don't really know what's going to happen next until I write it... so yeah, I'm very unprepared. The singing goat would be ashamed of me. (10 points if you actually get that reference.) Thanks for all of the lovely *cough* outraged *cough* reviews. Remember the happy end I promised? It's coming. Eventually. Also, I love France. And another thing, I do support the theory that Holy Rome is Germany, but I wanted to bring Spain back, so that's what happened. Ta Ta For Now, Bitches! I'mma going to bed~_


	8. UPDATE

Hello, my fellow Spamano fans! I know how incredibly tired you are of waiting for the next (and last) chapter of my story! But I just thought I should let you know that I'm going on a brief hiatus. No, this is not because I'm lazy. It's mostly because I really, REALLY want to submit a novel for the National Writer's Month. So, if everything works out correctly, I should be back before the end of the month. I just thought I should give you guys a little head's up. Ciao!


	9. Final Chapter: Buenos Noches

**A/N: Sorry for long wait! Lonnng chapter!**

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><p>He was no longer a nation, but he wasn't human either. Therefore, Romano could run incredibly far distances in a short amount of time; and being a cowardly Italian helped as well. He ran through each large city, each wide field, and to each border of the country, all in the hopes of finding that one, smiling, familiar, loving face. But it was nowhere to be found. All of the people he saw were normal, unfamiliar strangers who paid him no mind. It wasn't until he had searched every single place in the country that he decided to give up and return home.<p>

_Home…_ Romano thought, absent-mindedly. _That's right; that place isn't my home anymore. _He was only a few miles away from Spain's house now, so he decided that he might as well go and get some rest. He wasn't quite sure how long he had been searching- but all he knew was that it had been a hell of a long time.

_What if that French bastard was actually lying to me? _Romano wondered as he arrived at Spain's desolate, empty house. _I don't know… he's usually not that nice to me. But what if he was actually telling the truth? I can't freaking tell. _Romano went inside and climbed up the stairs to his room, and flopped down on the bed. It wasn't until now he realized how sore his legs and feet were and how exhausted he was.

Just as he was drifting off into sleep, Romano was forced awake by the loud ringing of the phone.

"God dammit!" He swore, sitting up. "Why the hell did someone have to call now?" He got up in frustration and lunged for the phone, ready to yell his lungs out to whoever was calling. "Yeah, who the hell is it?" Romano shouted into the receiver.

"Ve! Don't scream at me like that!" Italy cried back.

"Oh… it's you, fratello." Romano said, calming down a bit. "I thought it was going to be that bastard France or that creepy-ass Prussia."

"Don't talk about big brother France and big brother Prussia like that!" Italy said. "They're really nice people…"

"You think everyone's nice." Romano sighed. "Now what the hell do you want?"

"I just called 'cause I was worried about you, Romano!" Italy said, sounding frantic. "I haven't seen you in forever! And you didn't show up the funeral, so I got really worried…"

"I'm fine." Romano said, running a hand through his hair. "I haven't been doing much. I've just been hanging out here…"

"You're lying, Romano." Italy said straightforwardly.

"What?"

"You're lying. I've been calling you the past couple of days, and-."

"Days? How long have I been gone?"

"At least four days… and without hearing from you for that long, I… I assumed the worst."

"I'm fine, idiot."

"Ve… what were you out doing?"

"It's none of your damn business."

"Fine, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But… could you do me a favor, please?"

"What the hell is it?"

"Could you come over to my house again, at least for the night?" Italy asked cautiously. "I mean… I'm really worried, and I haven't seen you… and you're probably pretty lonely there by yourself…"

"Psh. That's an understatement." Romano said cynically.

"Veee! I didn't meant to upset you, Romano!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Fine. I'll come over to your house later, if you insist."

"Really? Oh, thanks, Romano!" Italy sounded a bit more cheerful. "I promise to make you lots of the pasta and the pizza, oooh! We can have sleepovers and stay in each other's rooms and talk about love!"

"Except the food part, that sounds horrible."

"Fine, fine. We can do whatever you want. Ah! I also forgot! Luddy- I mean, Germany's gonna be there! So I promise it will be fun."

"Sure. Look, Veneziano, I gotta go."

"Ve. I understand. Does tomorrow work though?"

"Tomorrow works." Without another word, Romano hung up and silently made his way back to his bed. He laid down and stared at the ceiling aimlessly.

"That potato-sucking bastard's gonna be there?" He muttered. "Great. That's the last god damn thing I need: to be third-wheeled."

* * *

><p>Romano walked silently to Italy's house. He was too sad to give a shit about his sore feet, or the fact that he hadn't slept or ate in days. He had grown thin and frail, but he doubted anyone would care anymore. Especially fratello, who was oblivious to almost everything.<p>

He finally arrived home to find that nothing had changed since he was gone- and he realized he hadn't been at Spain's that long. _If I had never left home… would Spain have lived…? _Romano wondered. He shook his head in disgust. _Oh, shut up! Thinking like that is stupid! _He sighed and knocked on the door.

"Ve! I'll be there in a sec~" Italy called from inside.

"Well hurry it up, dammit!" Romano complained. He waited a few moments until Germany opened the door. His face looked stern as usual, but he seemed somber as he stared down at Romano.

"…Guten tag, Romano." He said finally.

"Yeah, yeah, hi." Romano said, pushing his way inside.

"RRROOOOMMMMAAAAANNNOOOO!" Italy cried, running at him at full speed. He jumped and tackled Romano in a tight, bone-crushing hug. "I've missed you so, so much, fratello! Ve, are you okay? I've been worried!"

"Get. The. Hell. Off. Me." Romano croaked.

"Sorry, Romano…" Italy got off of his brother and smiled. "I just haven't seen you in so long that I kinda got carried away…" He gave Romano a gentle hug this time. "I've missed you lots and lots, Romano!"

"I can tell, dammit." Romano said curtly. Italy let go and stared at his brother.

"You've gotten thin… Well I made lots of pasta and pizza for you!" Italy grabbed Romano's hand. "Come on, let's have some dinner!" Romano didn't reply, but just followed his brother with a silent frown. _Why the hell is he always so damn happy, _he wondered. _No wonder people like him more- he's always smiling like a complete moron. …I wish I could be like that… _

Romano and Germany ate their dinners in silence as Italy went on and on, telling random story after random story to try to lighten the mood. As usual, the upbeat nation proved to be useless, and did nothing to help his brother's sour mood. The evening dragged on for what felt like an eternity for Romano, as he had to sit and watch as his brother got affectionate with that German bastard while he had to sulk in his loneliness. He couldn't have wished for nightfall to come sooner.

"Here you go, fratello." Italy said, as he lead his brother to his room. "I left it the same as it was since you've been gone. Well, I cleaned it too, ve~"

"Thanks." Romano said emotionlessly. He wanted nothing more than his brother to just leave him alone. He hadn't slept in days; and his throbbing feet were killing him.

"Sleep well, okay? Let me know if you need anything at all." Italy said.

"Whatever," Romano replied, turning to enter the room. Italy quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him into another tight hug.

"Ve… I really did miss you, Romano." Italy said, squeezing Romano tighter. Romano sighed and hugged back for once.

"Yeah, yeah… You don't have to worry about me so damn much." Romano said.

"But I can't help it! You're my fratello~"

"I need to sleep." Romano said, pushing him off.

"W-well, okay. Goodnight, Romano." Romano ignored him and, as he was shutting the door, heard his brother mutter "I love you, fratello." Romano waited until he could no longer hear his brother's footsteps in the hall.

"That idiot." Romano whispered to himself. "Why the hell would someone like him even _like _me? …God damn it. Who cares?" He walked over and, too tired to change his clothes or even tuck himself in, Romano collapsed on the bed. _God damn, I'm tired… _he thought, shutting his eyes.

* * *

><p>When Romano woke up, the sun was already high in the sky and light streamed through the windows. Someone had placed a blanket over him, and on his bedside table was a note, written by Italy.<p>

_Fratello, Luddy and I went out to go shopping and visit his big brother! We would take you with us, but you seemed really tired. We'll be back soon, and there's plenty of food in the kitchen~ I love you! -Italy._

"God dammit." Romano muttered. "Why does he have to be so god damn nice? I swear, I'm going to get diabetes if I stay with him for long!" He sighed and got out of bed. "Luddy? Really? God, that makes me sick. I'd never call Toni anything…" He stopped and slapped himself in the face. "What the hell am I saying? Spain! I'd never call _Spain _anything like that!" He stopped talking and headed downstairs furiously. He grabbed a bunch of tomatoes and starting eating them sloppily. It's not like anyone was here to judge him. He sat down on a couch and stared out the window. It was obviously far past noon, but and the sun was shining high in the sky. It reminded him of when he used to live at Spain's house as a kid. It was the "Land where the sun never set", after all. He and Spain used to go outside and harvest the tomatoes together. Granted, Spain usually did all the harvesting; Romano would either eat a tomato in the shade or try to flirt with Belgium. _Those tomato fields… _Romano thought. _They're all going to die now, aren't they? They were so damn beautiful, too. _He put down the tomato he was eating and glared. Suddenly, that delicious, red fruit made him want to cry.

"God dammit…" He mumbled, wrapping his arms around his knees. "If I keep crying like this, I'm gonna look like a moron." But he didn't cry this time; he was too worn out to de even that. "This sucks." Romano said to no one. "I can't live with the importance and status of a nation. I can't find peace like a human. I just have to sit here and watch everything… why the hell did this happen to me, dammit?"

It was then that he heard someone knocking at the door. _Who the hell could that be? _Romano glared at the door. _Fratello and the German bastard would just walk in. _Begrudgingly, he got up to get the door. _I swear to god, if it's France, I'm going to stab him in the face. _He swung open the door, expecting to find that French bastard standing outside.

"What the hell do you want?" Romano asked, before actually looking to see who it was. To his surprise, it was a not an adult he was looking at. It was a child, who only stood about three feet tall. He had darker skin, black hair, and his eyes were shut tightly, as if frightened by Romano's outburst. He was wearing a long, white shirt that looked almost like a dress on him, that was tied at the neck with a red ribbon. "Who the hell…?" The boy slowly opened his eyes, his bright, emerald eyes.

_It can't be. It can't be that god damn Spanis-_

"Hola~" The boy said, smiling at Romano.

"Who are you, kid?" Romano asked, trying as hard as he could to keep his composure.

"M-my… name…" The boy stuttered for a bit, as if he had just learnt to speak. He spoke I a mixture of Spanish and the language that all nations unanimously shared.

"Well?" Romano asked.

"I think… I would be called… Spain." The boy said.

_There's no way. There's no freaking way that's Spain. I searched for days for him! So why the hell would he show up here now? _

"You can't be Spain!" Romano shouted. "I looked all over Spain for you!"

"You looked all over me for me? I don't get it." The boy replied. _Yeah, this was definitely Spain. _

"That's not what I mean, dammit!" Romano sighed, exasperated. "Well what are you doing here? This is Italy, stupid. Not Spain."

"I know that," Spain said. "I'm a nation!"

"Oh shut up. I mean why are you here? Shouldn't you be at your own damn house?"

"No." The boy shook his head. "I don't wanna be at my house."

"Just because you don't want to, doesn't mean you don't have to."

"It's not that! It's just, um…" Spain stared at his feet for a moment. "I-I needed to tell you something, Romano."

"You remember me?" Romano shouted. "What the hell? That makes no sense!"

"Just listen to me!" Romano became quiet, and waited for the now young nation to speak. "I woke up in Spain. That's my country, and I am Spain. I am young now, and my history is slowly coming to me, but there is one thing I can't forget: you. I loved you, Romano. I still do, and-"

"Shut the hell up." Romano said, interrupting him. Romano dropped to his knees and hugged the smaller nation to him. "You're just a kid, don't say you love me like that. It's creepy!"

"Aww, why? I don't get it." Spain complained. Romano didn't answer, but continued to hug him.

"Thank god you're still here. I thought… you'd be gone for good…"

"Don't be silly. I wasn't completely destroyed."

"I know, I know… but I couldn't find you…"

"Of course not! That's because I was busy looking for you, Roma." That was it. The tears that Romano had been suppressing suddenly burst out and streamed down his face as he hugged Spain tighter to him. Spain smiled and continued to chant "fusosososo", but being the naïve child that he currently was, Spain did not realize that Romano was crying from joy and not sorrow for once.

For a long time, Romano just sat there, crying as he held Spain tightly. Finally, when his sobs turned to whimpers, he let go.

"R-roma…" Spain barely whispered. "I'm cold… bring me inside!" Romano smiled and lifted the nation in his arms, something he had been wanting to do to Spain for a long time. Romano carried him inside and put him on the couch. Romano got up to get the young nation some tea, but when he came back, he found Spain fast asleep.

_There's no way in hell I'll tell him this, _Romano thought, _but he's so damn cute. _Romano pulled out a blanket, and draped it over Spain. He couldn't help but smile. _Spain's back… and he still… he still cares about me… _

He suddenly felt himself giggle, something he hadn't done in a long, long, time. _Hmm… maybe someday I'll tell him I love him. But I won't be as creepy as he was; I'll wait. I wonder if he'll still love me back? Hopefully… but that won't be for awhile. But, until then… _Romano leaned forward and kissed Spain's forehead.

"Buenos Noches, Toni."

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><p><em>AN: THE ! Ugh, sorry it took so long to update this. Funny thing, I never actually got around to doing the November Writing thing. I started it, but ended up getting to caught up with stress and school. Then, when December rolled around, I had finals to worry about. But alas, I am on Winter Break, and here I am~ I hope you enjoyed this story. I now plan to write an angsty Spamano/GerIta, so stay tuned! I'll be back soon! But I need SLEEP. It's 3 a.m.! Ufhdfashdkljsa... _

NIGHT. *passes out.*


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